Covering my sleeping children with warm blankets pulled all the way up to their chins.
Sneaking into their rooms late at night to impart one last forehead kiss.
Kissing boo-boos and making them suddenly all better purely through the power of Mommy.
Scrubbing the remains of dinner off of faces and hands and out of neck folds and even, when necessary, from between toes.
Making baby food - the whirring blender, the careful addition of just enough of the cooking water, scooping it into ice cube trays.
Making toddler food, carefully cut into un-chokable bits. (Less so watching it flung against the walls.)
Pressing my cheek to my child's temple to see if they have a fever. (Much more so when the answer is "no.")
Using that nose sucker thing and pulling out a big sticky stream of snot, which makes my child scream like I am ripping out fingernails but then, for at least a few minutes, feel better.
Sleeping with either child curled next to me. (Less so getting kicked in the head.)
Sleeping with both children curled next to me. (Less so getting kicked in the head and the kidneys.)
Brushing Mia's hair.
Mia brushing my hair.
Rocking a baby/toddler/preschooler when necessary to sleep.
Taking a load of kid clothes warm from the dryer and folding them into neat, sorted stacks. (Less so putting the laundry away.)
Having to run to keep up.
Newborn sized diapers.
Debating details of astrophysics with a four-year-old.
Debating details of no you may not have more juice with a toddler.